Spikard troubles
by Florin
Summary: Bleys' role in Chaos powerplay. Finished... for now.
1. Before it dissolves

** Disclaimer: all characters and some of the dialogue here belong to Roger Zelazny.  
A/N: This is another fill-in-the-gaps fanfic, Bleys POV this time. **  
  
It was supposed to be the usual trip to Tir-Na Nog'th (if there is such thing as the usual trip to Tir-Na Nog'th) with one little exception. No one had been keeping trump contact with me. No one had been waiting for me down there, looking anxiously at the sky. Stupid? That's what my inner voice kept telling me when I was climbing the ghostly stairs, until an outer voice loudly interrupted it.  
  
"Catch them, you fool!"  
  
This was Corwin's voice, right out of the thin air to my right. Then, something appeared there, going rapidly in my direction. It turned out to be a trump. I caught it and studied it. It was Delwin's trump, but the colours were strangely washed out. I put it in my pocket and continued up the stairs, trying to block out overwhelming sense of deja vu caused by Corwin's words.  
  
So, where was I? Oh, right. Stupid. Well, I had an excuse. My excuse was that I hadn't had an excuse. Official excuse for visiting Tir-Na Nog'th, I mean. I didn't trust anyone so much that I could tell them the truth - I was visiting Tir-Na Nog'th because I had an important decision to make. No, not like that. I had already made the decision, and the consequences were probably spreading like those circles in the water by this time. The question was, whether I should inform the "proper authorities" or not. Either way would result in far-going consequences of its own - much more far-going than I could look into. And here I was, entering the mystical city all on my own, hoping to find some clues before it dissolves into the night.  
  
No strange encounters on my way to the palace. Surprise was waiting for me at the rear entrance itself. It was locked, with a cardboard sign on it. The sign read "WE'LL REOPEN AT" and then the opening time specified in some unknown runic language. I could try to force it open, but force rarely proves effective in Tir-Na Nog'th. I looked around for some kind of oracle, but the sign seemed to be the only clue. I hoped that whatever I was waiting for would happen before the dawn. In the meantime, I decided to try contacting Delwin through that strange trump. I didn't have to concentrate, the trump didn't become cold, and the picture didn't become animated. But next second, Delwin was standing in front of me, and the trump wasn't in my hand any longer.  
  
"The spikard you have - it is the one from the Courts," he stated immediately.  
  
"You can tell them apart?"  
  
"Yes, and it looks like you have switched them for the reason unknown to me."  
  
"Yes," I answered simply, leaning on the door.  
  
"I'm not quite sure it was the right thing to do."  
  
"You don't know all the circumstances."  
  
"At least I can hope that you do," he sighed.  
  
"So," I wondered, "you have any idea why this thing won't let me in?"  
  
It seemed that he was about to answer at first, but instead he looked at me and said, "You'd better walk way. You can get hurt."  
  
"If you mean the entire affair, I'm afraid it's too late. Or do you mean Tir-Na Nog'th? Or..."  
  
The door swung open in complete silence, kicking me several meters away in process.  
  
"Oh, you mean the door..." I remarked, raising myself from the ground. Delwin was crossing threshold already.  
  
"Wait!" I shouted, following him inside.  
  
"What-" I tried to grab his hand, but my hand went right through him. I realized that he was looking just like his trump - colours all washed out. "What are you? Just another local ghost?"  
  
"Would you believe me if I told you otherwise?" smiled Delwin.  
  
"Maybe," I said. "If you manage to explain your lack of... flesh."  
  
"I didn't say I'm the real thing," he explained. "More like an astral projection."  
  
"You mean, you are... dreaming?"  
  
"More or less. I'm not sure myself. This place summoned me, and it means something important is about to happen here. Something having to do with the spikards."  
  
"Is that why we had to wait?" I asked.  
  
Delwin nodded. "Lead the way."  
  
"Me?"  
  
"When in Tir-Na Nog'th, one can sense where something important is about to happen. But I'm just a ghost myself - I don't sense anything."  
  
So, in random direction we went. Not for long, though, for I noticed an invitingly opened door in one of the corridors. We entered, and two figures inside did not acknowledge our presence. A man and a woman were standing at what looked like some kind of altar, their lips moving in complete silence. The man had white hair and black clothes. I had already seen him before. The woman looked vaguely familiar. We leaned over their shoulders to take a look at what was lying at the altar, and I quickly checked my pocket when I saw it.  
  
"No need to worry," Delwin said, noticing my movement. "This is only a vision. What are they doing with the spikard?"  
  
"I can only speculate, but it looks like they're putting a spell on it."  
  
"Spell?"  
  
I decided to tell him. I owed him, after all.  
  
"The one that would allow them to manipulate its would-be owner," I started.  
  
"That's why you've switched them? Smart move," he approved when I had finished the story.  
  
"Hope so," I sighed. The pair finished their ritual and left the room, closing the door.  
  
"You know them?" asked Delwin.  
  
"That man is the one who brought the spikard," I said.  
  
"And the woman?"  
  
"I don't believe I've ever met her in person."  
  
"But..." insisted Delwin.  
  
"I have my suspicions," I said, trying to look innocent, and went to the door, hoping that it wasn't locked. It wasn't. Two figures were still visible at the end of the corridor, and I decided to follow them - for the lack of better ideas.  
  
We ended up in another long corridor. The one that did not exist in Amber. A logical conclusion would've been that it was the Corridor of Mirrors, but one weird thing was confusing me. Strange cubicles stood along its walls, resembling telephone booths. Taking a closer look at the nearest one to my right, I saw a small oval mirror inside. Only it wasn't reflecting me. Another corridor could be seen in there, with mirrors on the walls and Merlin wandering around. Merlin? He stopped and looked right at me. Smiled, stuck out his tongue. He probably thinks this is just a dream. Either that, or he really needs to grow up. I looked around and saw that several people were entering booths on either side of the wall.  
  
"What's this?" I asked. "Is this how the Corridor of Mirrors really works?"  
  
"Of course not," Delwin sniffed. "But that's how you imagine that."  
  
I saw him in the booth across - the man with white hair. He was talking to Merlin, but I didn't hear anything. Then, Merlin walked further and the man disappeared in a flash of light.  
  
"This is real Merlin," it dawned on me. "It's him we've been waiting for."  
  
"We can probably talk to him that way too," Delwin confirmed.  
  
"As soon as we pay for it," I said as I noticed a slot under the mirror. The sign on it said "1 D.R."  
  
We began checking other booths. The woman was in the next one. She was laughing.  
  
"What's so funny about this Pit," Delwin muttered.  
  
"You can hear them?"  
  
"Uh-huh. Can't make much sense of what she said, though."  
  
Then, a strange snake-like creature. I couldn't tell whether it was talking or not.  
  
"I need to talk to him," he said. "If I'm lucky, I'll even be able to bring us to him."  
  
He entered the next booth and inserted a coin. In a few seconds, I saw Merlin strolling by in the mirror.  
  
"Son of Amber, wearer of the spikard," Delwin addressed him.  
  
"Yes?"  
  
"A spikard was hidden in Amber - for you to find. It conveys great powers. It also bears a series of spells that will cause its wearer to act in certain ways under certain circumstances."  
  
"I suspected this," Merlin agreed casually. I wanted to ask him why the hell was he wearing it if he was so smart, but he wouldn't have heard me. My brother briefly informed Merlin of the situation, and in process, I learned the names of those who put a spell on the spikard - Mandor and Dara. I knew who Dara was, but never heard of anyone named Mandor before. Delwin gave Merlin instructions for transporting through the mirror, but things didn't go as planned. For when their rings had touched, Delwin disappeared in a flash. The mirror exploded into dozens of shards, and when I looked closely I discovered Delwin in each.  
  
"Damn!" Delwins cursed. "He is probably too far from here. Give him your spikard. Looks like he'll need it more than you."  
  
I was about to protest - one spikard is quite a lot of power, after all, and, besides, I wanted to get something for myself out of this mess. But he was gone already, replaced by the reflections of myself. He was probably right. About the spikard, I mean. So I took the next booth. I put one coin in, wondering about what happens to the real coin which is inserted into imaginary slot. I missed Merlin, as he had already passed to inspect a chest. I called out to him, but he didn't respond. He was looking at something in the drawer, and then a suspiciously pale lady appeared in the opposite mirror.  
  
"The answer lies before you, dear friend," she said. Merlin looked so clueless I wanted to smack him. It was obvious that she was informing him on Corwin's whereabo... Obvious?? How had I known that? I shrugged. This city had been rumoured to affect visitors' thinking in peculiar ways. The conversation seemed to be getting pretty intimate, so I suppressed a yawn and went for the next booth. I passed the lady as she had been kissing Merlin, walked a little further and entered a booth to my left. Feeling stupid, I inserted another coin. Merlin noticed me almost immediately. I don't know why he was so surprised to see me, but the look on his face was priceless. And I thought I looked stupid.  
  
"Well, well, nephew. Confused?"  
  
"As usual."  
  
"Can't say I blame you."  
  
At first, I was going to tell him I was here for real, but then decided against spoiling the fun.  
  
"Bleys, what the hell is going on?"  
  
"I've the rest of Delwin's message," I explained showing him the spikard. "Here."  
  
"It is the one of which Delwin spoke," I quickly added as he took it from me. "You must never wear it."  
  
It seemed pretty obvious for me, but with Merlin, better safe then sorry.  
  
"What am I to do with it?" he asked. Good question.  
  
"Put it in your pocket. A use may suggest itself at some point."  
  
"How did you come by it?"  
  
"I switched it after Mandor left it, for the one you wear now."  
  
"How many are there, anyway?"  
  
"Nine."  
  
"I suppose you know all about them."  
  
"More than most."  
  
"That wouldn't be hard. I don't suppose you know where my father is?"  
  
"No. But you do. Your lady friend with the sanguinary tastes told you," I reminded him.  
  
"Riddles," he grunted.  
  
"Always preferable to no answer at all," I explained patiently. Suddenly, the mirror disappeared. Then the booth I had been standing in, and every other booth in the corridor. The walls became semi-transparent, and I figured what was going on. Dawn.  
  
I reached for my deck, but just as I was about to concentrate on the trump, the floor lost its solidity and I fell knee-deep through it, dropping the entire deck. Trumps fell through the floor to where I could no longer see them. Uh-oh. I dropped to my knees and started fumbling around hastily. I finally found a trump and prepared to concentrate, but, ironically, it turned out to be Brand's trump. I tried again. Oberon. Was this city playing its last joke on me? I didn't have time to laugh. I groped several trumps at once. Luckily, one of them was for the palace, just like I originally intended. It had almost become real by the time Tir-Na Nog'th vanished completely. I managed to keep my concentration even when falling. Well, I already had some experience with trumping from mid-air.  
  
My landings still needed practice, though. Transition didn't stop my movement, just changed its direction, so I rolled down the corridor with insane speed.  
  
"What's that?" I heard Vialle's voice, and became vaguely aware that things had just gone from bad to worse, as judging from its direction, I was going right towards her. 


	2. Before Fiona sniffs

** Disclaimer: all characters and some of the dialogue here belong to Roger Zelazny.  
  
SPOLIERS ALERT  
Previously (in chronicles, not in my fic): Bleys gets shot by Rinaldo; Merlin shows photo of Luke to Fiona, she figures that Luke is Brand's son and understands that Luke is the one who shot Bleys; Fiona takes Bleys to some secret place to protect him and heal his wound; Luke tells Merlin that his is actually Rinaldo, son of Brand, and proceeds to imprison him; Merlin escapes and tells Flora the entire story (obviously, Flora tells everyone who is willing to listen); Fiona meets with Merlin later cause she is worried about some big tornadoes; she says she hasn't been in contact with anyone, so she still doesn't know, and Merlin never mentions Luke's real name; Fiona contacts Merlin once again and mentions her meeting with Ghostwheel; she calls it wacky, mendacious and insulting, which probably means Ghostwheel didn't tell her Luke's real name (or anything useful at all) either. **  
  
Rolling and rolling and rolling... WHOOSH!  
No, it's not what you thought. It's the sound of air rapidly coming out of my lungs - the result of my chest being suddenly stepped on. Couple of centuries later, I finally managed to focus my vision and evaluate the situation. As with any situation, there were good and bad things about it. Good things - the boot that was "resting on my chest" (pinned me to the floor is more like it) at the moment had stopped me two meters from Queen Vialle, and, thankfully, it was shiny clean. Bad thing - the boot belonged to Julian, thus overcompensating all the positive moments.  
  
"What's going on?" Vialle asked softly.  
  
It was only after her question that Julian slowly lowered his gaze from Vialle to me. Imagine the picture: a hero victoriously stepping onto defeated enemy's chest. Imagined? Now forget it. It was nothing like that. Julian's expression was closer to "I think I just stepped on a bug - ew..." It's not that Julian had something against me (Sure, Corwin and I had killed lots of his people back in the old days, but Julian doesn't give a damn about such things). It is simply in his nature.  
  
"Nothing important", he drawled, shifting his weight to my side. My ribs creaked. "Just Prince Bleys... passing by."  
  
The complete lack of emotions on his face only doubled my hate, but my respect for the Queen didn't allow me to act on it. That and Julian's boot.  
  
"Prince Bleys", Vialle repeated with a confused look.  
  
"Good morning, Your Majesty", something that resembled my own voice croaked.  
  
"Good morning... What are you doing down there?"  
  
"I had to trump in a hurry... I'll explain everything - if only Julian would be so ki..."  
  
"Of course I'll help you up, brother", Julian said, removing his foot and offering me a hand. "Did you hurt yourself?"  
  
"I'm fine", I muttered, raising myself from the floor (ignoring Julian's hand, of course) and using all kinds of gestures to show Julian what I thought of him and of all his ancestors (maternal). He reacted to these just like Vialle - he didn't. Too bad Corwin wasn't there.  
  
"Well, you really do look ok", Julian acknowledged, "so, if you don't mind, Bleys, Queen Vialle and I were in the middle of discussion..."  
  
Julian gave me that "get lost, kid" look, unaware that he had just given me the idea on perfect - and instant - revenge. If Queen's time was what he wanted, I was going to snatch it right out from under his nose.  
  
"Actually, I believe that my news are much more important. I've spent this night in Tir-Na Nog'th", I said. That got her interested.  
  
"Without a partner? That's risky", Vialle berated.  
  
"You're right here, Your Majesty. But the news was worth it."  
  
"News? In Tir-Na Nog'th?" Julian snorted.  
  
"This isn't just about Tir", I continued, not looking at him, and proceeded to put a final nail in his coffin.  
  
"I think we'd better talk in private."  
  
"If it's so important, maybe you should tell Random?" Vialle asked.  
  
"I think that negotiations in Begma are important as well. I figured I should tell you the story, and you'll decide if it's urgent enough to recall your husband", I replied. I had made that up on the spot, to be honest, but it sounded reasonable even to myself. That did it.  
  
"We'll talk later, Julian, if you don't mind."  
  
"Of course, Your Majesty", he said, and not even his despising look could spoil my delight. Delight changed to hesitation, however, on our way to Vialle's studio. But it was too late already - I had promised the news. Isn't it funny how most fate-of-the-universe level decisions are made? Not under the guidance of signs, portents or that thing called logic, but just because we are pissed of, in the mood, caffeine high, etc. So, I quickly went over my story to ensure that there's nothing that needed to be "forgotten", seated myself behind the table in the corner of her studio, winked to the bust of Gerard and started the story...  
  
Our Hideout is a wonderful place - perfect, warm climate, nice view from all windows, and well-trained servants. The mansion is located on top of the hill, with the only road leading towards the nearest town. The town is close enough to allow for fresh products on our table everyday, which I can appreciate. However being the Hideout, its security is on the level as well. Its location doesn't allow anyone to approach it unnoticed within a mile, and the entire area within a hundred yards is a killing zone. If by some miracle unwanted visitors manage to avoid getting perforated by out elite crossbowmen, the'll be met by a platoon of swordsmen, who are as good as human beings can get. Yes, the mansion is that huge - miniature fortress, actually. I used to think that Fiona was overprotective, but sometimes it's very comforting to know that in order to get to you, someone would either have to Trump right inside and deal with all the guards on his own, or bring the entire army to besiege the Hideout.  
  
My recovery was going fast, and I was actually capable to fend for myself already, so the real reason to stay was the fact that I was really enjoying it. "I'll stay for a little more, just to ensure my recovery", I was telling myself everyday, "and then I'll go and kill that arrogant kid." Fiona was probably enjoying it as well, even though she kept telling that she was only there to look after me. However, she finds it humiliating to just sit in one place and have fun, so one day, she mentioned that she had found something worth investigating and disappeared.  
  
She returned several days later. It was early morning, and I was sitting in the living room, sipping coffee, when Fiona trumped in, wearing evening dress.  
  
"Morning Fi," I greeted her. "Join me for a cup of coffee."  
  
"No, thank you. I just had some."  
  
"Oh. I can see that you had joined someone already - judging by your dress."  
  
"How's your wound?" she changed theme instantly.  
  
"Much better, thanks to you. I guess I owe you."  
  
"I guess you do."  
  
"On the other side", I smirked, "I'd have recovered faster in a real, civilized hospital."  
  
"Or died faster. When there's civilization, there are sniper rifles."  
  
"He wouldn't have known where I'd be. Speaking of Luke - any news?" I asked, wondering if it was his real name.  
  
"Merlin knows where he is..."  
  
"Good", I cheered up, "I'll get my sword."  
  
"Unfortunately, he refused to give any details."  
  
"Rats", I sighed. "What's wrong with youngsters these days?"  
  
"You're getting too jumpy", she shook her head. "Why don't you do something useful for a change?"  
  
"Like what?"  
  
"Help me to find out the source of those anomalies."  
  
"You mean like surround myself with piles of books and try to derive some stupid formulas? Thanks but no thanks. I had enough of this from Dworkin."  
  
"Be that way", Fiona shrugged, "but you'll regret that when the universe will..."  
  
I was saved from her lecture by a trump call. I tried my best to avoid showing my surprise to Fiona, but I'm not sure if I was good enough.  
  
"How's it going, brother?"  
  
"Delwin", I acknowledged without moving my lips. I heard the door slammed - Fiona understood that she wasn't going to get any info by eavesdropping here. "Oh my... you are still alive!"  
  
"Why such surprise on the matter?"  
  
"No one heard from you since you left Amber..."  
  
"No one heard from me because I wanted it to be that way!" Delwin snapped.  
  
"Are you still mad at Oberon?", I asked, getting agitated myself. Anger can be so contagious sometimes. "He gave his life to save us all - even you! Do you know at least that?!"  
  
"Yes", confirmed Delwin. "And for all I know, he was only doing it for his pet kingdom."  
  
"Maybe so. But now that he is gone, what keeps you away from Amber?"  
  
"You really don't get it, do you, dear brother? You. You all!"  
  
"We had nothing to do with what happened", I shook my head.  
  
"Exactly. You just stood back and watched as people I cared about were humiliated!"  
  
"You mean like you'd give a damn if anything like this happened to someone else?" I chuckled. He was silent for several seconds.  
  
"No. I'm as bad as you. I don't want to be constantly reminded of who I am."  
  
"I understand you don't count Sand as such reminder. Or, maybe, you parted with her for the same twisted reason?"  
  
"I'm not telling you anything about Sand."  
  
"And what are you telling me about?", I wondered. "Did you just call to remind me how bad I am?"  
  
"I'm going to do you a favour."  
  
"Oh dear, this is so sweet..."  
  
"Not you personally, don't get any ideas. Are you in Amber?"  
  
"No. Not even close. Why?"  
  
"Well... anyway, you are the best man for the job."  
  
"Job? I'm not looking for any."  
  
"Listen, Bleys, this is bad time for your jokes. Amber might be in trouble now!"  
  
"When it comes to my jokes, there's no such thing as bad time. And I thought you don't care about Amber..."  
  
"I don't give a damn", he agreed angrily. "But this is a question of balance. This may result in troubles all over Shadows."  
  
"Hmm... This is serious. Why don't we discuss it at your place - or at mine, if you don't want to show your location?"  
  
"I don't want anyone to know where I am, and I don't want to leave my post either. Not at the time like this."  
  
"Post? What the hell are you occupying yourself with, brother?"  
  
"Ever heard of spikards?" he asked after a long pause.  
  
"Powerful devices that gather energy from the Shadows?"  
  
"I protect those I have and track the rest."  
  
"Uh-huh", I nodded slowly. "Why would you need any in the Shadow? Just give them to us and find something more enjoyable to do."  
  
"I wish", he sighed. "Bringing these close to Amber or the Courts would unsettle the balance."  
  
"So, you've got a job as a universal counterbalance. Sounds like fun. Did you call me to brag?"  
  
"The fun is only about to start. I have a way to find out every spikard's approximate location. The one from Courts of Chaos is going to give us troubles."  
  
"Don't 'us' me, please. Why?"  
  
"It was taken away from the Courts several days ago. That got me worried."  
  
"Maybe the owner is just taking a walk through the Shadows."  
  
"That's what I thought - until now."  
  
"Ok, ok, you got me intrigued", I admitted. "Now spill it already! What else is wrong with it?"  
  
"It's in Amber."  
  
My surprised face was more a formality than anything else.  
  
"So, you want me to find out what's going on? Where is it - exactly, I mean?"  
  
"I told, you, I can't pinpoint the location. Somewhere in Amber is all I can tell you."  
  
"Great", I muttered. "And how am I supposed to look for it?"  
  
"Hey, I can't think of everything for you!"  
  
"Why me, anyway? Fiona is better with such stuff..."  
  
"I don't like the idea of Fiona getting her hands on a spikard", he confessed, and I couldn't disagree. Fiona likes power too much for her own good. For Amber's good.  
  
"Right. And what if the spikard's owner won't be willing to cooperate?"  
  
"Then you'll use this", he said, handing me a spikard.  
  
"And it's not even my birthday", I muttered, admiring the ring in my hand.  
  
"You celebrate birthdays?"  
  
"That's just a saying... Nevermind, better tell me how to operate it."  
  
"Don't do this", he said as I was about to put the spikard on my finger. "It's quite hard to take off, so wear it only if necessary. Using it is simple enough - and my instructions would only get you confused."  
  
"Ok. I better go before Fiona sniffs this thing."  
  
"Good luck."  
  
He broke the contact, and I took a trump from my deck, plan already forming in my head. I'll go to Amber, find the spikard, grab the spikard, find Luke, kill Luke.  
  
Then I'll return here and finish my coffee. 


	3. Traps and presents

**Disclaimer: all characters, some of the dialogue and even most part of the plot here belong to Roger Zelazny. **  
  
_In a badly plotted story they'd have paused outside the doorway, and I'd have overheard a conversation telling me everything I needed to know about anything.  
--Merlin, Prince of Chaos _  
  
Leaving in a hurry always means forgetting something, at least in my case. This time was no exception. My sword. Not that it was a big deal; I reached under my bed to get a spare blade, clasped it, blew out the lights and went to the door. The plan was simple - first things first. I was going to check on the most important thing in Amber - the Pattern. I didn't know whether spikard was capable of inflicting any damage on the Pattern and I didn't want to find out. Had this happened in the times of Oberon, I'd have reported everything to the king immediately, but there was little use in talking with Random. Actually, I was afraid that he would do something stupid and spook the intruder somehow. I'm not saying that he's bad monarch, but he's just one of us with a superior status, and, unfortunately, none of us is anywhere near Oberon's league. So, everything went smoothly and according to plan, for the entire three seconds it took me to reach the door. And then I heard voices from the hall.  
  
"...there is a small errand I want to run", first voice said. It belonged to Merlin. "Would you keep an eye on things here and take charge if she calls us in before I get back?"  
  
"If one of your relatives strolls by, should I introduce myself as a lord of Chaos?" another voice asked. I could not identify this one.  
  
"I thought you were also a lord of deception."  
  
"Of course", stranger agreed, and I heard a clap.  
  
"I'll hurry."  
  
"Cheerio."  
  
Listening to the recessing footsteps (presumably Merlin's) I thought about what I had just overheard. It wasn't very informative, but words "chaos" and "deception" had sent shivers up my spine. This stank. I heard remaining man's quiet footsteps and then some strange sound. It took me several seconds to understand the nature of it. I heard the click pretty soon - this man was as good with lockpicking as any of us. I heard the door open and close. Judging from the conversation, they were waiting for something to happen in Merlin's apartment (it was approximately in the direction from which the voices had come from), so Merlin's door wasn't locked. That left only one possible option - the visitor had just entered Brand's apartment (sound was too faint to originate from nearby door - Benedict's). For a moment, I was pondering whether this lord of Chaos was more important than finding the intruder with the spik... HELL, HE IS THE INTRUDER!  
  
Ok. I made a deep breath. What is he looking for in Brand's room? There were a lot of interesting things there, but nothing worth risking political scandal. Except... Werewindle. I decided to go after the stranger to catch him red-handed and unlocked my door, making as little noise as possible. However, I had managed to open it just a little bit before hearing Brand's door open and close again, and then this guy was fumbling with the lock once more - to lock the door behind himself. I thought better and changed my mind about revealing myself. Rumours went that lords of Chaos are capable of destroying entire cities. While that could be just another exaggeration, I knew that some of them were highly skilled magicians, and this one probably had a spikard, Werewindle and no reasons to surrender to just one amberite.  
  
I heard a shriek. Then, judging by the sounds, the intruder opened the door to see what had happened, then returned to the hall. It's not that I didn't have any chances in combat in this situation. Even though I never had any practice with a spikard before, I was sure that my chances were pretty decent. However, I was the only one aware of what was going on (well, more or less), and as such, couldn't afford risking my life no matter what chances. I heard footsteps approaching.  
  
"What's the matter? You appear more troubled than when you left."  
  
"Something totally different", Merlin answered, "I think. Any word from inside yet?"  
  
"I heard a shriek from Jasra while you were gone, and I burned to the door and opened it. But she was laughing and she asked me to close it."  
  
"Either ty'igas know some good stories or the news is favorable."  
  
"So it would seem."  
  
Ty'iga, ty'iga... Something familiar... Something from those tales Dworkin used to tell us when we were kids... Maybe it's some kind of chaosite metaphor? But I was more concerned about the name I heard. Jasra. Fiona mentioned that Brand's wife had been imprisoned, but Merlin's apartment was quite a strange place to use as a detention cell.  
  
"Our conversation is concluded", Jasra's voice stated. So much for imprisonment. My curiosity finally overwhelmed my prudence; I opened my door, praying for it not to creak, and peeked into the hall. I only managed to catch a glimpse of the last man entering Merlin's apartment. White hair, dressed in black - apparently, this was the aforementioned lord of Chaos.  
  
I considered all the facts again. This didn't look good. Lord of Chaos, armed with spikard, infiltrating Brand's apartment; Jasra, who hates our guts, behaving like she owns the place; Merlin, half-chaosite, covering up for them. But why, why would Merlin do something like that... Luke, it clicked suddenly. Merlin is Luke's friend, and, obviously, Luke somehow managed to convert Merlin. I'm probably supposed to say here that I never trusted Merlin. Except that I did. I remembered that look in his eyes when he had put down his weapon in front of Random, just like we all; he had looked sincere. Just like we all. Random would be upset. I sighed. Against these three, I didn't have a chance - alone. I took three trumps from my deck: Random, Fiona, Benedict. Royal flush, ladies and gentlemen.  
  
I concentrated on the trumps and... looked away. I had missed something. Still holding the trumps in my hand, I carefully approached the door to Merlin's apartment and listened. I heard the voices but they were too faint to make any sense. I stood at the spot where I figured Merlin had been standing, closed my eyes and replayed the conversation in my mind.  
  
_Would you keep an eye on things here and take charge if she calls us in before I get back?_  
  
Not a word about Brand's apartment - Merlin had no idea! I removed the trumps. It was quite possible that Merlin had been even less aware than me, and I didn't want to set him up. At the same time, another part of my theory went awry. Werewindle is not so easy to hide, so the fact that Merlin hadn't expressed his surprise at the sight of his friend carrying one probably meant that it wasn't what spikard wearer had been after.  
  
Walking as quietly as I could, I returned to my apartment to get Brand's key. Being quiet takes time, so it took me several minutes to get to Brand's apartment. It was dark, but I didn't want to risk lighting all the candles - too much light could be noticed from outside. Instead, I just lit up one candle and carried it. I went for the armoire first and checked the Werewindle, and sure, it was there. The fact brought both elation and confusion - I had no idea what to look for now. I looked around the room, and memories rushed in immediately. Happy and not-so-happy... Probably sounds boring and sentimental, but they got me in a trance for a couple of minutes. I forced myself to concenrate on something more useful. What was that chaosite looking for in here? Probably something magical, I answered myself, summoning the Pattern.  
  
I saw it instantly - it was impossible to miss. A fresh spell, right there on the wall. I came closer to examine. This was strange, resembled disease somehow: large section of a wall common with Merlin's room was covered with many tiny cracks. I didn't want to risk probing it with the Pattern - with three magicians behind the wall, at least one of them could've sensed my manipulations. This looked familiar, however, resembling the Disruption spell I had witnessed in the past. I figured it was its chaosian variation. The spell would eat through the wall slowly, and one day, it would crumble from the slightest push or fall under its own weight.  
  
I couldn't get the purpose of it. Chaosites conspiring to... expand Merlin's quarters? Kindergarten. Or not? This spell's main flaw was its slowness; there are much easier ways to break a wall. I felt that I was on the right track - timing was the key. For some reason, it was important for the white-haired man that the wall was going to crush not immediately but much later on. I inspected the cracks closely, trying to evaluate the disruption rate, wishing I could borrow Fiona's brain for a moment.  
  
I went for the desk, looking for something to write upon - I wanted to make some calculations to figure spell's timing, hoping to stumble upon some clues that way. Instead, I stumbled literally, because I had suddenly realized that one bedpost was looking somewhat... strange in the Pattern vision. Something powerful was hidden inside. I looked down at my pocket, then back at the bedpost. This couldn't be mere coincidence - the structures were the same.  
  
I raised my hand to reach for the knob, the pulled away. It was too easy, too absurd. Thieves usually try to steal, not leave something, especially something as powerful as spikard. I remembered the man's white hair. Maybe I had been wrong to not believe in Santa?  
  
The more I thought of it, the more it was resembling some kind of bait. I didn't like the feeling. I consulted my intuition, and it told me it was time to do something smart and unpredictable. So I put down the candle, exited Brand's quarters and stood before Merlin's door, feeling growing confidence inside. This seemed to be the perfect move under the circumstances. As my left hand started knocking on the door, my right hand slipped into the pocket, touching the spikard, and my brain started working out some unsuspicious excuse to get Merlin away from his guests for a private conversation. I didn't bother planning the conversation itself. Too many options, too many unknowns. Bluff, threaten, open up? Things like this are better when improvised. "Sequence and order, time and stress - they are most important in this matter" - Brand's words.  
  
I didn't get a chance to test my improvisation skills, however, as no one answered. I considered the meaning of this while knocking once again, just in case. I hadn't heard any footsteps or other noises from the hall, which meant that no one had left Merlin's quarters through the door. I didn't see any reasons for Merlin not to open the door and therefore assumed that the entire company had trumped out somewhere while I had been snooping in Brand's apartment. It was good news, actually - now I didn't have to worry about being detected.  
  
I returned to my apartment, lit up a candle on my desk and opened a desk drawer. In this particular drawer I kept items that weren't too valuable but might prove useful some day. It was full of stuff, mundane and magical, so I took my time looking for what I needed. It was a nifty medium-sized wand, with an orange fancy handle and a red barrel - my colours. It had a hexahedral, spiraling shape, constricting towards the business end which was topped with a miniature crystal ball. Elegant, like all father's gifts. Grabbing the wand, I headed back to Brand's apartment.  
  
Wands are rarely used by magicians of my level, but mine is a special case. There's a hollow shaft inside, with a drop of my blood rolling in it. This wand is, in fact, a magical probing rod. Thanks to its well-crafted magical structure, any spell intened for me would be triggered by my blood. If nothing else, Oberon knew how to make great presents.  
  
I lit up all of the candles this time. Careful inspection revealed a trap spell near the bed, and I slowly moved my wand through. The crystal ball glowed weakly to indicate a magical presence but yielded no other reaction, which led me to the conclusion that this spell had been designed for some specific person or simply malfunctioned. Either way, it was probably Brand's old spell, and I had more important things to do than to sort out his mess. I checked the knob, unscrewed it, rummaged inside with the wand to check for any spells and finally retrieved a small bag. Having checked the bag with both Pattern vision and my probe, I took the spikard out of it and put it on my palm, perplexed with the complete lack of catch of any kind. It was strange; anyone could have retrieved it and put it on. Unless...  
  
The moment I inserted the crystal ball into the ring, the ball started glowing bright red. Half a second later, I heard an emotionless voice calling out to me through the wand. "You're not Merlin. Find Merlin. Bring me to Merlin."  
  
It took me another second to realize that damned thing was trying to brainwash me, and I immediately removed the wand. I knew I was secured from any kind of mental influence, but I was really creeped out at the moment. Of course, it could be just a small present from Merlin's chaosian relatives, like, they do have holidays, don't they? Maybe it's some kind of "christmas" there and maybe that guy really is a "Santa" coming for visit and maybe it's their tradition to hide presents in the dead uncle's bedroom and maybe the spell's only purpose is to keep the spikard from getting into wrong hands? Well, at least I tried to keep an open mind.  
  
I tried to comprehend the entire picture. Sometime soon, the wall between the apartments would crash, and it would look like nothing but a weird accident to Merlin. He would come to investigate and find the spikard, which I was damn sure had its plans for Merlin. Someone had used one of the most powerful artifacts as a booby trap. Someone in the Courts was playing at large. It was a weird situation; I had no idea of who this game's participants were, but I did know for sure that I had an advantage over them all. I was one step ahead, and I couldn't afford to waste that step. I needed to make them show their cards without revealing mine somehow. If only I could trick them into thinking that everything goes according to their plan while making sure it doesn't... something simple... How about defusing the thing?  
  
I had to give up on that idea after ten minutes of inspection - too complicated. However, as I was holding both spikards in front of me, trying to figure the difference between the "clean" and the "tainted" structures, even wilder idea dawned upon me. I let go of the Pattern vision and held them close to the candle light, kept turning the rings round and round in my hands...  
  
"Yeah, they're identical all right. Or, should I say, interchangeable?" a familiar voice came from behind.  
  
I turned around, but not too fast. I already knew what I was going to see: black cloak, silver rose and a confident smile. 


	4. Rights, wrongs and ghosts

** Disclaimer: all characters, some of the dialogue and even most part of the plot here belong to Roger Zelazny. **

** A/N: Posted this one just to make it look finished. I mean, I do have a continuation in my mind, but... it might just stay in my mind for quite a while. After all, the way I write it, every chapter is a stand-alone episode. **

More tea, You Majesty? Nice bust - Gerard's, I mean. So, where was I...

"Corwin."

"Sort of..."

"I didn't hear you come in," I stated. "Did you trump in?"

"Sort of..." he repeated, sounding slightly hesitant. I decided to press the issue.

"What does your 'sort of' mean? You Corwin or not?"

"Corwin. That's my name," he smiled, and I knew something weird was going on, with him, at least. His smile wasn't a typical amberite smile of a person who knows something you don't. Instead, it looked like he was ready to laugh at himself - or at the whole world. I'm not sure if it was meant to irritate me, but it did.

"I've spent lots of time with Fiona lately, you know, so I'm pretty much fed up with ambiguities," I complained, which earned me a sympathetic look. "What brings you here?"

"I came looking for Merlin, but then," he added, pointing to the hand in which I had the spikards, "something else came up".

"You have zero sensivity for such things. How did you know about these?"

"My Pattern found them. Two spikards that close gave it signal strong enough to figure out exact location, so, out of curiosity, it sent me to investigate."

"You're talking like it has a will of its own," I said, feeling that I'm about to learn some disturbing news about the universe I live in.

"Feel free to use the word 'sentient', brother," Corwin nodded.

"But if it is," I noticed carefully, "then so are..."

"...Dworkin's Pattern and Logrus. Yes."

I argued with myself a little on whether to get sentimental over the stuff I'd just learned, then convinced myself that I had more practical things to figure out. "Sent you?" I repeated. "So you're working for your own creation now?"

"Ironic, isn't it? Especially considering that my creation is my creator at the same time."

"Creator... You mean, it created you? How?"

"I could've answered that, but you probably mean 'when' and 'where'. About a minute ago, in this room," he said, waving around.

"So, you're not Corwin," I stated.

"How can you tell? I act like Corwin and I have his memories up to the moment when I-he created that Pattern."

I had a feeling I had finally understood what this was all about.

"It copied you," I claimed. Corwin winced at that remark.

"I prefer calling myself a ghost."

"Whatever."

"Right. I can see you have an interesting idea on your mind."

I wasn't really surprised that he knew what I had been considering. When it comes to mischievous ideas, two of us are quick in the uptake. "If you mean switching the spikards, forget it. This shouldn't even be considered seriously."

"Why, isn't it the best possible option at the moment?"

"Best? I'd rather keep it for myself, then I could..."

"You could what, Bleys?" Corwin interrupted. "Go to the other side of the universe and try to sort things out on your own?"

"Why not?" I asked, raising my hand with the spikards. "It has all the power I need."

"One thing I learned during the Patternfall War," Corwin said, shaking his head, "is that no power can compensate for the lack of information. Initiative is all that matters right now."

"Okay, maybe you're right here, but if we do it your way, we're sending Merlin right into the eye of the storm, and I'm not sure he's the right man for the job."

"He has an advantage over everyone else caught up in this mess, Bleys. He can see and evaluate situation from both sides."

"Heh, we don't even know which side he is on, for he I bet he doesn't know himself!"

"Don't worry. I know."

"You do? Enlighten me, please. Which side is he on?"

"His own." Corwin stated with a confidence that was getting on my nerves.

"Cool! Now stop being a smart-ass and explain."

"That's your problem, Bleys. You classify any conflict as two-sided."

"It usually becomes sooner or later," I shrugged, "especially major one."

"I hope it won't this time. Some wars better left unfinished."

"Right, so here's the picture: there's Amber ready to feed lead to any unwelcome visitors, there are Courts with all sorts of monsters at their disposal and there's Merlin with... er... nothing?"

"I wouldn't call this nothing," he said, looking at the spikard.

"With all his inexperience, you think this tinkertoy alone will be enough?"

"Of course not. The element of surprise is neccessary as well."

"I could just give it to him, then," I said thoughtfully.

"You'd have to explain how it got to you and why you are giving it to him just like that," Corwin objected. "That would make him suspicious about his chaos connections, and Merlin acting suspicious might spook some people we don't want to be spooked. As funny as it sounds, we want him clueless on this one."

I looked at him examiningly. Something two of us had learned long ago: plans never work out perfectly, whether it's an innocent prank or a full-scaled assault. Some improvisation is always required, and the best plans are those which foresee that improvisation and leave some freedom for it. But now, I was wondering if this one had too much freedom.

"We have no idea what he'd have to go through. Why do you think he's capable of it?

"Because he's just like me. He'll go with the flow till the very end, but at the last possible moment those who believe he has no will of his own will be greatly surprised."

I just kept looking at him for a while, thinking of how much his sympathy for Merlin might affect his objectivity.

"well," Corwin finally asked. "What have you decided?"

"What if I say you aren't convincing enough?"

It was hard not to make that sound provoking, so I didn't even try. Corwin's gaze shifted towards my sword, and I instinctively started studying his garments for hidden weapons. Corwin shook his head.

"We're on the same side here. What if I say I'll keep an eye on Merlin?"

"Boy, ring and ghost," I smirked. "Just enough for a fairy-tale."

"Does that mean yes or no?"

"I'll do as you say, because of your guarantees. And because I owe you."

"You mean your little fall from Kolvir," Corwin smiled; I shuddered.

We were silent for about half a minute. I'm not sure what Corwin's ghost was thinking about, but I was replaying that miserable ascension in my mind.

"One question I never had a chance to ask you," I broke the silence. "Why did you do that? Why did you throw me your only way out of that mess?"

However, by the time I had finished my question, his eyes were looking past me, concentrated expression on his face. Trump call? "My Pattern says there was a large explosion in a shadow in the area of Merlin's whereabouts," Corwin explained. "And it's not TNT."

"Explosion? Looks like they are having real fun..."

"The bad news is, my Pattern is not the only force that noticed it."

"You mean Amber Pattern - or Logrus?"

"Both, I'm afraid. I must go now."

"Why? What can you do?"

"I'll try to get Merlin somewhere safe."

"I have a good place to hide, you know. Nice house with lots of guards..."

"Pattern can reach any place you can reach," Corwin reasoned. "There's only one thing I can think of."

A miniature whirlwind took him away before I could ask anything else. I sighed. Time, time, time. It didn't let me find out where real Corwin was, why he had saved my life back on Kolvir or what Corwin's ghost was planning to do. But, after all, it didn't matter, wasn't important, and he wouldn't have told me the truth, correspondingly. I looked at the spikards and realized they had probably mixed up in my hand. I took one of them, probed it with my wand and put in my pocket.

Now the clean one. I rolled it in my hand and looked at the wand. Not that I expected Delwin to try something like this on me, but... As soon as the crystal ball entered the ring, it started flashing all colors of rainbow. It was strange and unusual, and I had no idea what it meant. However, due to absense of obvious signs of danger I had to conclude that it was nothing but a bizarre side effect of the spikard itself. I put it in place and left the room, trying to figure out whether I'd just done right thing or wrong thing and coming to conclusion that these terms have little use in Amber anyway. 


End file.
